lost like a shooting star
by supernovas
Summary: They're all meteorites, waiting to collide with earth. /Every possible Next Gen relationship :: 01—teddy/victoire ::


**notes |** this is going to be a relationship exploration of every single next gen pairing. i have a slightly morphed version of next gen canon which this will be following but i hope you enjoy anyway! if there are any pairings/prompts you'd like to see, let me know.

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01. _you could never be my last._

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our love's been hung on a cross

and nothing seems to make a sound.

_—love burns, black rebel motorcycle club_

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In the end all they have are firsts. It's an endless cycle of hoping and praying and wishing they could be everything that they're expected to be, but when they reach the finish line they realise that all they will ever really be is nothing and the knowledge that when all loose ends meet and the world rights itself, all that will be left are two shattered hearts and the disappointment of knowing they could never work, breaks them apart

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Teddy and Victoire have an infinities worth first but really, they'll only ever have one last.

.

The first time Teddy sees her he's three and he doesn't think he's ever seen anything more likely to break. He feels as if a single touch—one little prod—could shatter the tiny bundle of pink flesh into a million pieces.

When Harry asks if he would like to hold the baby on his lap he shies away.  
Teddy hides behind the sofa until the rest of the family have finished oh-ing and ah-ing. Then he creeps forward and peers into the coat baby Victoire has been placed in. Her face is screwed up with unrecognisable emotions and Teddy feels an odd swooping in his stomach. Victoire's hands are grabbing at the empty air, reaching for some invisible object which is just out of reach.

(When he's older and his life is a falling comet hurtling towards the earth he thinks that simple movement sums up the broken woman Victoire Weasley has become absolutely perfectly.)

Hesitantly moving toward the baby, the little boy offers his fingers to the baby. Victoire grabs them gurgling excitedly and wide smile stretching across her face as the idea—the fairytale—that Teddy and Victoire are meant to work begins although in reality they're just two magnets of the same end which were never meant to meet.

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Their first kiss is their biggest mistake, Victoire decides. They're nothing but teenagers balancing on the thin line of expectations and the craving to make something—anything—happen.

The pair of them sit on roof of the Burrow, an ocean of stars shining above them. It's beautiful and the cold light sends a reckless urge through Victoire. She's never kissed a boy before and as she leans forward to press her lips against the azure haired boy sitting next to her, she can't help but think she's doing it all wrong.

In the romance novels she's devoured throughout the last year, she's always been told she's meant to hear angels singing and feel fireworks burning through her stomach during a first kiss but all Victoire can feel is a dead weight in her chest which she can only describe as regret.

Eventually Teddy pulls away. He waits for Victoire to say something but all she does is gaze wistfully at the stars and wish she was as far away from the boy next to her as possible

.

Their first fight is the first real emotion they've ever shown each other aside from the frozen kisses and the half-meant, half-whispered mumbles of "I love you".

Teddy forgets what it was even about now—something mundane, something stupid—but he remembers the reflections of his hair, crimson, in the window of Shell Cottage. He remembers the dangerous flash of Victoire's eyes and the way he couldn't help thinking this was the only real thing he'd ever felt in their relationship.

In the end he storms out—it's her house after all—and stands at the edge of the beach outside Shell Cottage and wishes he could run away. The waves lap over his feet, the cold water soaking into his socks as he watches the reflection of the moon on the calm surface of the water. There's a dead sort of irony in that, Teddy thinks, that the sea could be so calm whilst inside, Teddy is raging.

Eventually he turns away and makes his way back to the cottage. He tells her he's sorry—it probably wasn't even his fault to begin with but really, what does it matter? Teddy hugs her until she complains that his shoes are ruining that carpet and he smells like wet dog.

Teddy smiles and lets the nagging wash over him because they're Teddy and Victoire and ignoring their problems is what they do.

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They sleep together for the first time on one unexceptional Monday morning in November when he's drunk and she's looking for a way to stop being little Victoire Weasley. It's messy and careless and it's nothing like any romantic fantasy either of them ever dreamed of.

He appears at her flat just before midnight, mumbling about pumpkins, glass slippers and Prince Charming. Victoire almost points out that in his bedraggled state—with his shirt half un-buttoned and a bottle of red wine clasped in one hand—Teddy Lupin is anything but Prince Charming. She holds her tongue though because there's something compelling about this side of Teddy.

Victoire invites him inside and Teddy lasts about seven minutes before any morals he may have been holding onto are completely snuffed out by the booze and he kisses Victoire with a passion neither of them have ever felt before, running his hands across her body. For a moment Victoire considers pushing him away but there's something enthralling about this side of Teddy Lupin that Victoire Weasley can't help herself but wanting.

They crash onto the bed and only fall asleep when the sun begins to rise above the slate roofs of East London.

(Later, Victoire tries to forget that Teddy left before she'd even woken up.)

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In the end realise they were never meant to be so it is fitting that their only last is a final goodbye. They stand opposite each other under an iron grey sky, staring at one another until Victoire turns away because she's finally realised that all this time what they've been forcing themselves to have has never been there and she's wasted enough of her life pretending to love someone she doesn't.

She doesn't say anything—just turns on her heel and disapparates—and Teddy thinks it's better that way because really, they've never had anything to say.

Passers by hurry onwards, collars and umbrellas up against the rain and the demons which haunt the world, so eager to get to shelter none of them notice the boy—man—with electric hair standing alone as the rain slowly drips off his face and Teddy Lupin realises something has been lifted off of his heart.

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